


What The Rain Brings

by saltnhalo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Omega Dean, Porn with Feelings, Scenting, Topping from the Bottom, True Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 07:52:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltnhalo/pseuds/saltnhalo
Summary: In which Castiel's new roommate—supposed to be an alpha, under the guidelines of the college dorms—turns out to be a) late, and b) a beautiful, sarcastic,drenchedomega.





	What The Rain Brings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepopeisdope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepopeisdope/gifts).



> It's ya day, boo!
> 
> This is for Makenna. For putting up with me over the internet and in person, for always being there with the best advice and for sticking with me even when I'm being an idiot. Thank you so much for being my friend, and I hope you like this hot mess <3
> 
> Special thanks to my beloved cheerleaders [Adaille](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaille/pseuds/adaille) and [Luke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikuhamster/pseuds/haikuhamster). Enjoy!

Castiel steps back and admires his handiwork.

It’s taken the best part of the day, but he’s finally gotten his dorm room set up how he wants it. There are fresh sheets on his bed, all his clothes are neatly folded away in the dresser or hung up in his half of the closet, and his belongings are either sitting on his desk, nightstand, or tucked away under his bed. His posters have pride of place on his wall, and Castiel squints at them for a second to make sure that they’re all aligned and even.

All in all, he’s happy with how everything looks—even considering the slight ache in his back from hauling his desk all the way up to the third floor with Gabriel’s help.

It feels like Gabe had spent more time checking out the other alphas living on Cas’s floor than actually helping him get his room into any kind of order, but there’s no way he could have brought the desk and TV up by himself, so he should probably be grateful for his older brother’s presence. Now, though, Gabe has started the long drive home—or at least that’s what Castiel hopes—and it’s just him, alone in his dorm room for the first time ever.

Cas sits down on the edge of his freshly made bed, and his eyes wander to the other side of the room, the side that he’s largely ignored while he’s been setting up his own living space.

The other side of the room remains barren and empty. Despite today being the universally recognized ‘move-in day,’ Castiel’s roommate hasn’t shown up. While everyone else on his floor has been getting to know their roommates, the whole dorm building one big hive of activity, Cas’s day has been… quiet.

His neighbours—alphas, of course, since this building doesn’t assign co-ed rooms—have dropped by to say hello, but although he’s met Meg and Benny and Jo and Victor…

There’s been no sign of the D. Winchester who’s supposed to be sharing his room with him.

Now that he’s totally settled in, and the excitement of setting up his own space for the first time is starting to wear off, he has to admit that he’s… well, disappointed. The whole drive here, he’d been thrumming with nervous anticipation at the thought of meeting his roommate, but now that the sun is setting outside, it’s looking less and less likely that Winchester is going to actually show up today.

It’s not a big deal, though. He’ll meet them tomorrow, surely. Maybe they’re just late, or didn’t get the memo that _today_ was the day. Either way, it’ll happen. Nothing, not even his no-show of a roommate, could dampen Cas’s excitement at being _here_ , at _college_ , with his own living space and the whole world laid out at his feet if he’s ready to work for it.

He flops back on his bed, runs his hands through his hair, and grins up at the ceiling. Even now, it hardly feels real.

The rest of the late afternoon passes quietly and uneventfully. Castiel tracks down the password for the building’s Wi-Fi, sets up his TV, and acquaints himself with the communal bathrooms in order to shower off all the dust and sweat that he’s accumulated across the day. He’s going to really feel the ache in his muscles tomorrow, but for now the decent water pressure of the hot shower certainly helps to relax the knots in his back. It feels fantastic, and he returns to his room more relaxed and content than he has been all day. His roommate won’t be turning up until tomorrow, so he has nothing to worry about except to decide what he wants for dinner.

It had started to rain while Castiel was in the shower, and as he lets himself back into his room, he watches the water run down his window while the last of the light disappears from the sky.

A few minutes later, he’s sitting on his bed in a pair of sweatpants, browsing nearby delivery places on his phone. The options around here are a refreshing change, but he’s just decided on pizza when—there’s a knock at the door.

It must be one of his neighbours, Cas reasons. It takes him a few seconds to jump off his bed and locate a t-shirt from his dresser, and he pulls it on as he makes his way back over to the door. “Hello, how can I help—“

His words die on his tongue as he opens the door and sees the person standing on the other side.

It’s not anyone he’s met so far today. This man is a few inches taller than he is, with green eyes and freckles scattered over his cheekbones. He has a duffle slung over one shoulder, a scowl on his face, and is absolutely  _dripping_ with water. It flattens his hair to his head and soaks his clothes, and Cas wholeheartedly understands the irritated expression.

But that’s not the most intriguing part about this man. Beyond the undeniable attractiveness and the drowned-rat look, there’s something  _more_. Castiel inhales subtly, chasing that scent.

This man is an  _omega_.

“How can you help me?” the guy asks. He drops his duffle on the floor beside his feet—it lands with a wet sound. “It’d be great if you could point me to the right room, I think there’s been some sorta mistake.” He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a waterlogged piece of paper that looks as though it could disintegrate if it was even looked at the wrong way.

Castiel is too busy staring at his face as the man gingerly unfolds his paper—because where has this person come from, who looks so stunning and smells like fresh baking and warm leather and, well, _rain_ , and whose voice is enough to send shivers down Castiel’s spine? He’s never really believed in anything like love at first sight or the notion of true mates, but… _good god_.

The guy gets the paper unfolded and turns it around to Castiel, who snaps out of his daze and forces his eyes away from _green_ and down to water-soaked paper and ink. “See? It says right here, I’m in room 312 with a C. Novak—but this is the alpha floor, so that can’t be right.”

He’s not wrong—it does say that. Or, at least, it _did_ , up until Castiel reaches out to touch it and the paper, smeared words and all, falls apart in the man’s hand. The soaked pieces land wetly on the floor, and for a second, they both just stare.

“Shit,” says the guy.

When Castiel looks back up, those green eyes are watching him. It takes him a second to realise that he should really say something, and clears his throat awkwardly.

“Are you, uh. Are you ‘D. Winchester’?”

The guy raises his eyebrows. “Um. Yes? Yeah, that’s me. You can call me Dean, though. Is that… How do you know my name?”

 _Dean_. God, it suits him. How does he already feel like a pup with a crush?

“I’m your roommate,” he says simply. “I’m Novak. Castiel Novak.”

Dean stares at him for a few seconds. Then a few more. “You’re my roommate,” he says finally. “And… you’re an alpha.”

Castiel nods.

“Well, fuck.”

“What do we do now?” Cas honestly has no idea how to handle this. He’d been looking forward to meeting his roommate all day, but now that he’s finding out that his roommate is a half-drowned but still _gorgeous_ omega… all his plans are going straight out the window. He might be in a little over his head, here.

“First of all, I’d just like to get dry,” Dean says wryly, gesturing to himself and the small puddle he’s been creating on the linoleum floor of the hallway. “All my stuff is soaked, though, I had to run from the mechanic’s a few blocks up.”

“The mechanic? Why?”

For a second, Dean looks at Castiel like he’s a little bit stupid, but it’s definitely tinged with amusement. “Because some dumb fuck hit my car? That’s why I’m so late getting here. Most of my stuff is still in the trunk of my Baby, but I wasn’t exactly planning on myself and my bag getting soaked on my way here.” He sighs and pushes a hand through his wet hair. “Then again, I wasn’t expecting to turn up and find out I’d been assigned to the wrong floor, in a room with a hot alpha, so, y’know. Bigger picture and all that.”

And doesn’t that short-circuit Castiel’s brain. He blinks in surprise, then squints a little at Dean. “You think I’m hot?”

“Jesus Christ, dude, _that_ was what you took away from all that?” Dean groans and shakes his head—though Castiel swears he catches the hint of a smile. “Now, are you gonna invite me into my own room or what? Otherwise I’m gonna freeze to death out here.”

Cas still can’t quite get past the ‘hot’ comment, but he was raised to be polite, and mentally kicks himself for leaving Dean out in the hallway for so long. Thankfully, there’s no one else around to realize that Castiel’s new roommate isn’t the alpha that he’d been expecting. For now, Dean is his discovery alone.

“Of course,” he says, stepping out of the doorway and giving Dean plenty of room to pass. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to stay here, though? I promise I’m not an asshole, but I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

Dean drops his wet bag on the opposite side of the room, beside the bare bed. His boots squelch when he pulls them off. “We can sort it out tomorrow. You haven’t made a big deal about the mix-up yet, so I doubt you’re some knothead who can’t take no for an answer.” He gives a nonchalant shrug. “Plus, no offence, but I’m pretty sure I could take you if you tried anything.”

From what Castiel has seen of Dean’s frame and musculature under his wet clothes, and the relaxed way he carries himself, he’s inclined to agree. “I don’t doubt it,” he says, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

For a few seconds, Dean just stares at him, then he smiles. “Weird, hot alpha,” he mutters under his breath, just loudly enough for Castiel to hear. He’s not sure what _exactly_ it is that makes him _weird_ , but again, he isn’t going to disagree.

Before he can ask, Castiel’s eyes are drawn to the way that Dean’s wet clothes are dripping on the floor, and grimaces sympathetically. Those can’t be pleasant. “Can I get you a towel or some dry clothes?” he asks instead, already up and moving towards his dresser. Dean’s gaze follows him, burning into the back of his head as he rifles through his drawers for clothes that would fit his new roommate.

“Both. Both would be good.”

Castiel smiles to himself and pulls out an old, soft t-shirt and a comfy pair of sweats, then adds a towel to the pile and turns back towards Dean. The omega is still watching him, with a slight uptilt to his lips and an unreadable look in his eyes.

It’s like Dean is magnetic. Castiel can’t help but step in just a little bit closer than he needs to, drawing in that intoxicating scent. As soon as he’s handed Dean the towel and clothes, though, he forces himself to step back. He _likes_ Dean, and if he could avoid fucking up their budding friendship (or _more?_ ) by making him uncomfortable, that would be great.

There’s a spark in Dean’s eyes now, his lips curled up into a grin, but he doesn’t say anything other than, “Thanks.”

And before Castiel can offer to leave the room or avert his eyes, Dean starts stripping off his clothes, shucking off his jacket to reveal a plaid shirt and t-shirt, both of which quickly follow suit.

 _Oh god, his freckles_ , Cas thinks. And then, _I wonder how far down they go?_

His cheeks burn, the flush extending up to his ears, and Dean’s grin only widens. He keeps watching Castiel as his hands go to the belt buckle of his jeans, and he can’t look away, his gaze fixed on those nimble fingers as they unbutton, unzip. Waterlogged denim slides down to reveal bowed legs with strong thighs, and this might very well be Castiel Novak’s cause of death.

Who would have known that _this_ was how his first day at college would go?

“My eyes are up here, handsome,” Dean quips, and Castiel lifts his head fast enough to give himself whiplash. An apology is already on the tip of his tongue, but when he sees the teasing sparkle in Dean’s eyes and his roguish grin, the words stutter, and it takes him a second to regain his thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Dean shrugs, radiating amusement and—flirtation? “It’s no big deal. You think I’m pretty, that’s fine. I’m gonna have to get you to, uh, look away for a sec or something, because…” He gestures to the wet boxers clinging to his hips. Castiel resolutely keeps his eyes on Dean’s face and doesn’t let them wander. “These are kinda uncomfortable, and I don’t think we’re good enough friends yet for full-frontal nudity, to be honest with you.”

A shiver runs down Castiel’s spine, but he does his best not to let his mind wander towards subjects that he shouldn’t be thinking about. “Yes, of course,” he says. He stands and grabs his phone off the nightstand. “Actually—I was about to order a pizza, before you showed up. I can get you one too. Do you have any preferences?”

Again, Dean gives him that look, like he can’t quite figure Cas out. “First you give me a towel and clothes and shit, and now you’re buying me dinner?” When Cas nods the affirmative, he smiles, soft and slow and more genuine than any of the teasing, maybe-flirtatious grins he’s given so far.

“You’re a good dude, Cas.”

The words circle round and round in Castiel’s head as he stands outside his dorm room. He’s already ordered their pizzas—a pepperoni and a meat lover’s, though he’s still not sure whether that was in innuendo on Dean’s part—and now he’s just… here. Leaning back against the door, phone held to his chest, thinking.

He’s only known Dean for all of ten minutes, but he can’t deny that there’s some… some unspoken connection between them, an attraction that goes deeper than just being skin-deep. He already _likes_ Dean, and he gets the feeling that the more he learns about this man that fate has inexplicably landed on his doorstep… the stronger their connection will grow.

How is he already feeling this strongly for someone he’s only just met?

Castiel is deep in his thoughts, head tipped back against the door and eyes closed, when all of a sudden his support disappears out from under him.

He’s too shocked to even make a noise at the sudden disruption of his peaceful moment, and finds himself falling back against the door, which opens further under his weight. Behind him, he hears a curse, then feels strong, warm hands on his back, propping him upright. “Cas?” Dean says in surprise, as both of them regain their balance. “What are you doing? How long does it take to order pizzas? You’ve been out there for ages.”

“Just thinking,” Castiel says, once he’s sure that he’s not in danger of falling on his ass. He turns to face Dean, whose hands move with him, trailing across his t-shirt and leaving brands of fire beneath. “About… stuff.”

“Stuff, huh?” There’s a knowing glint in Dean’s eye. “Well, next time, don’t be using that brain of yours for too long. I was struggling to figure out how to use that fancy TV of yours.”

 _Next time_. That implies there’s going to _be_ a next time, whether Dean goes down to the admin office to sort this dorm mistake out tomorrow morning or not. It means that Dean wants to be acquaintances, at least, or friends. It means there’s hope. That tonight isn’t just one night, ending with Dean disappearing from his life as quickly as he’d entered it. That isn’t what Castiel wants.

Before he can process that for too long, though, something else catches his attention.

Dean is fully dressed now, but that doesn’t mean that Castiel appreciates it any less, because Dean… Dean is wearing his clothes. He’s wearing _Castiel’s_ clothes, and carrying _Castiel’s_ scent, and they’re standing _so close_.

He knows that’s he’s staring, scenting the air, but he can’t help it. It’s intoxicating.

“Uh, earth to Cas?”

Castiel clears his throat and wrenches his gaze upwards, though he can still taste Dean’s scent on the air, mixed with his own. It smells… _sweeter_ , like sugar and cinnamon, though he doesn’t know Dean’s scent intimately enough to know exactly what that means. “I, um. Sorry,” he mumbles. “You… You smell like me. It’s…”

“Distracting?” Dean finishes with a grin—though something about it feels tentative. Like he’s testing the waters.

“Distracting,” Castiel confirms quietly. “I’m sorry, I don’t… I’ve never experienced this before. It’s very strange.”

Dean shrugs his shoulders and steps back. When he does, his hands drop away, leaving Castiel cold. The smile, though, doesn’t disappear. “Nah, it’s fine. I get it. Honestly, you smell pretty damn good too.”

It’s hard not to let that tiny, innocuous comment go to his head, but—knowing that Dean finds his appearance and his scent pleasing is more intoxicating for the alpha part of him than it has any right being. Cas swallows. “I’m glad to hear that.”

They need to get off this track right now, though, otherwise his brain will be in danger of imploding. “You said you were trying to figure out my TV?” he says, changing the subject. “I can show you, if you’d like. We can choose something to watch while we wait for our pizzas to arrive?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Castiel closes the door behind him, and eventually the two of them settle on the end of Cas’s bed, close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off Dean and taste his scent in the air, but not touching. He shows Dean how to work through all the different channels and streaming services that Gabe had purchased as a college present—pointedly skipping over the _Casa Erotica_ that Gabriel had also installed, despite Castiel’s protests. Dean waggles his eyebrows when he sees it, but doesn’t mention it otherwise.

Eventually, Dean settles on Pacific Rim. It’s not a movie Castiel has seen before, but Dean insists that they have to watch it—

“It’s a goddamn crime that you haven’t seen this, Cas! Next you’ll be telling me you haven’t seen… I dunno, Jurassic Park.”

“I haven’t seen that movie either, Dean.”

“Fucking hell, alright. Guess I’m gonna have to educate you.”

—and, surprisingly, it’s pretty good. Dean explains that he’s an engineering major when they get an in-depth view of the Jaegers for the first time, and Castiel admits in return that he’s planning to study English. They pause the movie when the pizzas arrive, then settle back on Castiel’s bed—this time sitting tantalizingly closer than they had been before.

They’re both starving, so they do nothing but watch the movie while they eat. Dean keeps looking over at him at the important or impactful moments in the movie, watching avidly for Castiel’s reaction, but in the lulls (and once the pizza boxes are empty), Cas takes the opportunity to find out more about Dean. Their conversation flows easily, and Castiel hangs on Dean’s every word as he talks about his family, his past, his interests, then shares his own in turn.

Dean’s dad is a mechanic, his mom an ER nurse, and his little brother has a bright future ahead of him, if Dean’s pride is anything to go by. He wasn’t one for sports in high school, but spent his weekends working with his father in the Winchester Auto shop, which explains the muscle definition. He likes to read, and listen to music, and can reference more movies than Castiel has probably ever seen in his entire life. He finished high school with near-perfect grades, but had almost stayed in his hometown instead of travelling halfway across the country to attend this college. His parents had convinced him, he says, along with some… inextricable _pull_ that he hadn’t been able to figure out.

Dean is bright and brilliant and beautiful, and by the end of the movie, Castiel is barely even watching. Instead, his eyes are fixed on Dean’s face, on his eyes and the curve of his lips and the TV-cast shadows that play across his features.

They’re sitting so close now that their shoulders are almost brushing, so when Dean glances over, Castiel doesn’t have time to look away.

 _Fuck_.

Castiel freezes, his scent swirling with panic. He doesn’t want Dean to think he’s some kind of creep, staring at him like that when they’re supposed to be watching the movie. But…

Dean doesn’t move away, or call him out, or… _anything_.

Instead, he blinks once, slowly. His lips part. That sugar and cinnamon scent curls into the air between them again, almost enough to make Castiel’s mouth water.

He wants to kiss Dean _so badly_.

And it seems like the sentiment might be reflected, from the way that Dean’s eyes drop to Cas’s lips. It’s quick, but Castiel doesn’t miss it, nor does he miss the gentle way that Dean bites down on his bottom lip.

What does he have to lose? If he squanders this moment, he _knows_ that he’s going to regret it for the rest of his life. There’s… there’s something about Dean, some  _pull_ that he’s never felt with anyone else.

 _Fuck it_.

He slowly reaches up a hand, and when his fingers brush against Dean’s cheek, his hand cupping the omega’s face, touching him for the first time…

It feels like coming home.

Dean’s breath hitches, and before Castiel can properly react, Dean’s closing the rest of the distance between them, curling his fingers into the front of Castiel’s shirt and pressing their lips together. It takes Cas a second to process, but then he’s kissing back instinctively, sliding his hand around to cup the back of Dean’s neck and tilting his head into it. It’s slow and sensual and sends shivers up Castiel’s spine with every second, especially when Dean teases his tongue along the seam of his lips.

It’s easy to lose track of time, with Dean’s skin warm beneath his hand and the perfection of the kiss stealing all of Castiel’s brain power right now. Eventually, though, Castiel reluctantly pulls back to catch his breath. Dean looks deliciously flushed, his lips kissed pink and his smile wide. Castiel can’t help but mirror it. “I… wow,” he says, unable to find any better words.

Dean hums his agreement, reaching over to pause the movie’s end credits. The room falls silent, apart from the sound of rain falling against the window, Castiel can only watch, slightly awestruck, as the omega moves. He’s all flirtatious grace and wandering hands as he climbs into Cas’s lap, and _god_ is it hard for him to concentrate on not getting hard with six feet of stunning omega pressed against him. Warm, simmering heat curls in his gut, and he groans softly.

“Gotta say,” Dean murmurs, brushing his lips lightly over Castiel’s jaw, “this was not how I was expecting my first day at college to go.” He nips lightly at Castiel’s throat—completely destroying his concentration—then pulls back and grins crookedly. “Can’t say I’m complainin’, though.”

“Me neither,” Castiel rumbles, settling possessive hands on Dean’s hips. Considering all the positive signals he’s getting from the omega, he’s more confident in himself now, ducking his head to mouth along the line of Dean’s jaw. From the way Dean tips his head back and moans, his hips grinding in little circles in Castiel’s lap, he’s not complaining.

He can smell Dean’s slick on the air, as well as the caramel and spices combination that betrays Dean’s arousal, his _want_. More than that, though, there’s the faintest underlying sweetness, growing stronger every second and driving Castiel crazy…

And then two realizations hit him at the same time.

The sweetness in Dean’s scent, the curling caramel that’s making Castiel’s mouth water… It’s Dean’s _heat_.

And the simmering warmth in his own gut, the itch he can feel in his fingers, vibrating under his skin, the smell of thunderstorms on the air…

“I’m going into rut,” he blurts out, his eyes wide.

Dean goes still in Castiel’s lap. Carefully, he scents the air, and then his eyes open. Those green irises are threaded with omega gold, and Castiel is almost pulled under by the wave of pure desire that hits him. “You’re right.” Dean’s voice is quiet and rough, already sounding as though he’s been through three rounds of sex. “And I… I’m in heat. But—how? I’m not due for at least another two weeks.”

From the way he starts moving again, tiny twitches of his hips and the bunching of Castiel’s t-shirt beneath his fingers, it’s clear that it’s hard for Dean to concentrate right now. It’s a feeling that Castiel understands _fully_.

“I’m not due either,” he murmurs, resisting the urge to press his nose against Dean’s jaw and drink in his heat-scent. “I—when we touched, our skin, it might’ve—we might be true mates, Dean.”

It should be a monumental, _terrifying_ realization, considering the effect that it’s going to have on their lives, but for some reason, it just… isn’t.

It feels like something has finally clicked into place, a piece of himself that Cas only discovered was loose when he opened the door to find this beautiful, sarcastic, _drenched_ omega.

“This doesn’t scare you?” Castiel whispers into the air between them. His heart beats double-time against his ribs— _this is my mate_. He feels it in his bones.

Dean chuckles, a sound like honey that reverberates through Castiel’s very being. He presses himself close. “Nah,” he says quietly, pressing his words into the curve of Castiel’s throat between lingering kisses. “I knew from the… the moment you opened the door. You were special.” Castiel feels him grin. “Knew I wanted to fuck you the second I saw you. And your scent…” Dean’s nose presses against his jaw.

“It wasn’t like anything you’ve ever smelled before,” Castiel finishes for him, and Dean nods. His hands drag over Cas’s body, and it really is getting harder to concentrate, as his rut presses more insistently at the fraying seams of his control.

“Please, Cas,” Dean groans. “I _want_ this. I want you to fuck me.”

And that tears the last vestiges of Castiel’s control to shreds.

His hand tightens on Dean’s hip, pulling him close so that they’re pressed together as much as they possibly can be. His other hand slides into Dean’s short hair and tugs. A quiet growl rumbles in his chest when Dean moans, possessive and pleased, and he wastes no more time before kissing his omega again.

For all that Dean enjoys having Castiel’s hands on him, though, it’s clear that he’s not going to submit easily. He matches the intensity of the kiss with ease, keeping Cas on his toes with teeth and tongue and hands that roam distractingly over his body and through his hair. Even Dean’s  _body_ is distracting—he’s back to grinding in little circles, perpetually moving, and it’s very quickly driving Castiel crazy.

He drags his fingers through Dean’s hair once more, pulling a moan from Dean, then drops his hands to the hem of his t-shirt. Teasing his fingers along the hem proves to make Dean increasingly more impatient, until Castiel slides his hands up against bare skin. Dean is so warm and so responsive even to the simplest of touches, the merest brush of fingers.

“I can’t decide how I like you better,” Castiel whispers between kisses, scratching his nails lightly down Dean’s back and making the man shiver. “Naked, or dressed in my clothes and smelling like me.”

Dean moans against Castiel’s mouth, then leans back, breaking the kiss. The look he gives is green-gold and _molten_ , the smirk on his lips utterly sinful. “How about I help you decide?” he says, and Castiel’s brain short-circuits when, in one swift movement, he pulls his t-shirt up and over his head, then tosses it to the side.

Like this, his heat-scent is even stronger. Castiel drinks it in, lets his hands roam over the newly exposed skin, and goes willingly when Dean cups his face and pulls him back in for a kiss.

There’s no telling how long they stay like that—slowly giving in to their heat and rut, all wandering hands and desperate kisses. Somewhere along the way, the rest of their clothes are pulled off and discarded, until it’s nothing but gloriously bare skin and Dean pressed close in his lap, smelling of heat and arousal and slick.

Dean is still moving, still grinding in little circles but not finding any friction from it until he reaches down and wraps his hand around both their erections. The touch makes Castiel hiss out through his teeth, and his hands slide down to Dean’s ass, urging him to keep moving.

Their precome eases the slide, and the feeling of Dean’s cock against his own is heavenly, especially when Dean rocks his hips into the grip. It would be all too easy for Castiel to come like this, but his rut—the presence of his _true mate_ —demands more. He digs his fingers into the muscle of Dean’s ass, reveling in his mate’s closeness.

When Castiel finally can’t resist any longer, he shifts his hand and slides his fingertips down towards Dean’s hole, teasing around the soaked rim and groaning at the way the omega shudders and presses back for more. Castiel’s rut sinks its claws in more fully, and a growl resonates through his chest as he slides two fingers into Dean at once. “So beautiful,” he whispers into the kiss as Dean keens, nipping at the omega’s bottom lip.

Dean is a thing of wild beauty now, dragging his nails desperately down Castiel’s back and kissing him without restraint. When they separate to breathe, he nips and kisses along the curve of his jaw, but his hips never stop moving. He’s always rocking back against Castiel’s fingers and forward into the hand encircling both their cocks, with the most beautiful, _sinful_ sounds falling from his lips. _Please, Cas_ , and _I need you_ —it’s driving the alpha absolutely wild.

Castiel can smell nothing but Dean’s arousal, can taste his slick on the air. There’s almost no resistance against his fingers as he stretches Dean open, and he’s so open, so _ready_. “Can I?” he gasps against Dean’s lips, still coherent enough to ask even after his brain has been fried by the gorgeous creature writhing in his lap.

“ _Can you_?” Dean growls, punctuating the question with a light bite to the bolt of Castiel’s jaw. “I’ve waited— _ungh_ —long enough already… hurry up and _fuck_ me, _alpha_.”

And just like that, the last shred of Castiel’s control dissipates into the air as though it was never there.

He pulls his fingers out of Dean, uses the residual slick to coat his cock, then grips it by the base and guides it back to where Dean is open and waiting. Despite how Dean tries to sink back on it, though, Castiel holds him still with an iron grip to his hip. His alpha purrs in satisfaction at the way his mate writhes while he teases the head of his cock over Dean’s slick hole.

“Please, _please_ , alpha, I need you, _fuck_ me, _please_.”

Dean is incoherent with need, his nails digging hard into Castiel’s shoulders, sweat dampening his hair and eyes now more gold than green. He’s the most divine thing Castiel has ever seen. He can’t hold out any longer.

In one firm movement, Castiel pulls Dean down onto his cock, moaning in tandem with his omega at the incredible feeling. Dean is wet and hot and _tight_ around him, and it takes all Castiel’s concentration not to pop his knot right there. He may not last long with how tightly the need of his rut is gripping him, but he still needs to make this good for Dean.

And apparently Dean is set on making it good for himself too—barely a handful of seconds pass before he’s moving again, lifting himself up and fucking himself on Castiel’s cock. His thighs flex beautifully with every movement, his head tipped back in bliss, whole body moving and grinding and writhing as he chases his pleasure. The sounds he makes are absolutely sinful—quiet moans and gasps, a dirty groan as he grinds his hips down and takes Castiel in deep, or a punched out “ _oh_ ” when Cas hits that perfect spot inside him.

Castiel holds Dean close in his lap, encourages his movements with strong, guiding hands on his hips, but mostly he just watches Dean. Having his true mate _here_ , wild with pleasure because of _Castiel_ … it brings out an ancient, deeply-seated _pleasure_ in him as he watches Dean fuck himself on his cock.

He can feel his knot growing with every second, knows he’s not far away from his orgasm. From Dean’s scent, and the way his movements are starting to grow erratic, Dean isn’t either. Castiel grips his omega’s cock with one hand and strokes him in time with each thrust, watching the way that Dean quickly unravels. It isn’t long before he’s crying out Castiel’s name and coming over his hand, his golden eyes half-lidded and lips parted in pleasure.

The way he clenches down around Castiel is more than enough to send him over the edge. Cas’s knot grows and locks him inside Dean, and then it’s his turn to fall apart, his forehead pressed against Dean’s shoulder and hand gripping his hip hard enough to bruise as he comes deep inside his mate.

 _His mate_.

They may not have exchanged bites this time, but Castiel knows without a shred of doubt that they will. Dean is _his_ , and nothing will prevent him from being with his true mate.

His orgasm takes a little while to subside, and he rides it out by clinging to Dean, who holds him close and presses drowsy kisses into his hair. Eventually, he comes back to reality, his rut still simmering beneath the surface but kept at bay for now. When he opens his eyes, he finds Dean watching him, his cheeks still flushed but his eyes almost all-green again. There’s a softness to his gaze, but also still that cheeky, teasing spark that Castiel is quickly coming to love.

“Damn, Cas,” he says with a grin, his voice a low rasp. “I’d figured I might find some good lays at college, but nothing beats finding your true mate on the first day, huh?”

The thought of Dean so much as looking at another alpha right now has a snarl curling Castiel’s lips, but Dean calms him with a chuckle and fingers carding through his sweat-damp hair. “Relax, babe.” The endearment instantly settles Castiel’s alpha. “You’re the only one for me. I knew that as soon as I walked in the door, and after that sex?” He bares his teeth in a teasing grin. “There’s no fucking way you’re getting rid of me.”

“ _Good_ ,” Castiel says, smiling. He presses a gentle kiss to Dean’s lips. “I guess assessing your living arrangements is going to have to wait, isn’t it?”

“What a shame,” Dean retorts, and pulls Castiel in for another kiss. They melt easily into each other’s embrace as, outside, the rain continues to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://saltnhalo.tumblr.com), and subscribe to me on ao3 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltnhalo) <3


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